Fallout: American City
by Asgardian Dovahkiin
Summary: In the Jersey Wasteland, a resident of the Mojave arrives to find the city that never sleeps in a war that could consume the already ruined city. But what does this lone traveler from the capital of this once great nation have to do with it?


_War. War never changes._

_The end of the world occurred pretty much as we had predicted. Too many humans, not enough space or resources to go around. The details are trivial and pointless, the reasons, as always, purely human ones._

_Many centuries had passed since the Apocalypse and humanity had survived the nuclear fallout and prepared to reclaim its blackened planet. The western coast of the once mighty United States a new nation had arisen from the ashes of the old world, the New California Republic. The NCR had spread and beaten the colossal Beast of the East; Caesar's Legion at Hoover Dam and annexed the city of New Vegas. The NCR could accomplish this thanks to the help of an unlikely heroine who had spitted on the face of death._

_In the eastern coast, things didn't look to good for the residents of the Capital Wasteland. Four years ago, the Enclave, descendants of the old world's elites had migrated from the west coast after their oil rig had been destroyed by the descendant of an old and legendary hero and had settled on the outskirts of the Capital Wasteland. They engaged in a bloody war with the Brotherhood of Steel chapter stationed in the ruins of Washington D.C. _

_But thanks to the intervention of another hero, this Lone Wanderer, the Brotherhood was able to save the Wasteland and deliver the promise of clean water, for any and all. _

_Two years have passed since the war against the Legion and the NCR has sent their hero to investigate the eastern coast to see what was happening in the state once known as New York. What she finds there will not be what the NCR or the world expected…_

* * *

><p><strong>New Jersey<strong>

**October 10, 2283**

**Trenton **

The town of Trenton has always been quiet, ever since before the Great War, this town had never experienced any sort of ruckus. But once the bombs hit, it's once prosperity had been ravished by nuclear winter and radioactive water.

But the town still had inhabitants, even to this day and a new visitor had arrived. "This is Trenton?" The man with the red beret and combat armor asked.

"Looks like it." The woman in leather armor replied as the two walked towards the nearby old bar. They entered and there were indeed many people taking drinks and talking about the recent Deathclaw attacks. They all looked rough, sporting biker jackets and metal armor, possibly travelers from other parts of the country. The woman walked towards the bartender. "Do you know the way to New York City?" She asked.

The bartender who had an eyepatch over his right eye and was older than a ghoul's behind grinned. "Oh lassy, you going to the City, eh? It be mighty dangerous there." The bartender replied.

"Just tell me where the way is." She said.

"No need for aggressiveness, gal. Take a seat and will bring you a map." The bartender responded as he walked towards the back of the bar. The woman and her companion decided to seat and wait for the old man to return with the map.

"Hey Boone, don't you think that we should've gone to D.C instead?" The woman asked her companion.

"The Colonel was very clear that this area was very popular before the war, even more than the capital." Boone said.

"Yeah, I'm all for helping the NCR but cities tend to be sacked all the time. Remember St. Louis?"

"Don't remind me." Boone responded. The bartender returned with a map on his callous hands and gave it to the woman.

"You should find it easier to swim pass the Hudson instead of going through the metro tunnels or the bridges." The bartender said.

"Why is that?" The woman asked.

"The George Washington Bridge is a warzone; some kid in power armor is having a war with the city's number one boss, Venicci." The bartender said. "And the tunnels are full of feral ghouls that would eat your faster than a moose eats grass."

"The tunnels it is then, Boone you will need to use your machete."

"I hate close quarters." Boone said.

"Hey lassy, are you some type of mercenary or somethin'?" The bartender asked as the duo exited the bar.

"Mercenary? I'm a Courier." The woman responded.

Outside, the day was turning into night and the dark clouds only meant that rain was coming. The duo stood beside a barrel with fire in it to look at the map. "So if we go to the Trenton Metro Station we can catch a ride all the way to the Grand Central Terminal in the middle of the city no problem." The Courier said.

"Implying we don't run into a collapsed tunnel or a Glowing One." Boone stated.

"That's why I brought my plasma rifle." The Courier responded, "Anyway, we should find a place to sleep and continue in the morning."

As they walked to find a place to sleep in town, fighting erupted inside the bar grabbing the Courier's attention. "Not our problem." Boone said.

But once he turned he saw that she was already gone. "Sigh."

One of the bikers had gone into an argument with another newcomer and the place had gone ballistic! The Courier entered and saw the fighting and jumped into the middle of fistfight. Boone arrived to find most of the bikers unconscious on the floor and the newcomer sitting in a corner shaking.

"You just can't go without a day hitting something, can't you?" Boone asked.

"Nope." The Courier replied, she looked at the traveler sitting in the corner and helped him stand up. "You alright?"

"Yeah…just a bit shaken up." The young dark haired boy replied. "Thank you miss."

"Hey no problem but next time don't get into any more trouble." She said as she exited the bar with Boone again.

"Hey kid, what did you tell em' bikers?" The bartender who had hid below the counter asked.

"I just asked them if they had any stimpaks to sell." The boy replied.

"Oh, never ask a man for stimpaks in Deathclaw season, my boy."

It began to rain and the dry ground of the Jersey Wasteland once again felt the cool touch of water.

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><p>A caravan seller stopped nearby the George Washington Bridge, from where he was he and his guards could see the lights of the fighting that occurred there. The sound of bullets and Gauss Rifle fire illuminated the dark rainy night. "We better head for another way inside the city; the fighting is still going on." One of the guards said.<p>

"Yeah, let's go." The merchant agreed and walked away. The battle continued above the old bridge.


End file.
